


Unmasked

by Isra



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Blindfolds, D/s, Dom Link, M/M, Sub Rhett, rhink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 20:07:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1562438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isra/pseuds/Isra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a whole lot of smut, though it is smut with a 2000-word introduction because that’s how I roll.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Unmasked

**Author's Note:**

> This is a whole lot of smut, though it is smut with a 2000-word introduction because that’s how I roll.

_Playlist Live 2014_

For the third time in half an hour, Rhett pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time: almost one in the morning. He leaned back against the end of the bar and nursed his ginger ale while he surveyed the party scene in front of him. Music pounded the air and hammered against his tired brain. Moving lights sparkled on the floor and walls, occasionally illuminating the random dinosaurs scattered around the room.

Even though Rhett had desperately wanted to turn in after their late dinner, Link had insisted they make an appearance here at the VIP party, and as usual Rhett had allowed himself to be dragged along. He knew, intellectually, that it was important for them to be here in order to get face time with the big players in the industry and initiate the informal conversations that might one day lead to partnerships, podcast guests, and who knew what else. He was tired, though. He felt like he'd been "on" for the past 48 hours without any time to himself. His back still ached from yesterday’s plane ride, made worse by sleeping on the hotel bed the previous night.

It had been a decent convention, with a fun GMM filming and some time spent with fans, as well as a few spontaneous Ear Biscuits recordings, but he was ready for it to be over now. He thought about going back to their rooms without Link, but he knew he'd get crap from his friend if he did. And besides, if he left Link unchaperoned for too long, it's entirely possible the man would commit them to all sorts of bizarre projects just by being himself. Rhett was convinced his friend didn't listen to the words that came out of his own mouth half the time.

He reached the bottom of his soda and tipped an ice cube into his mouth, crunching down on it as he scanned the crowded room. Clumps of young adults in a variety of party dress clustered around hi-top tables and gyrated on the small dance floor. It was the usual YouTube convention VIP scene: some lesser known people eagerly trying to engage with the most popular folks while others played it cooler. And of course there was the expected assortment of drunk people enthusiastically vlogging throughout the room. Rhett hoped he wasn’t in the background of any of their shots.

His eyes finally found a silhouette on the dance floor that he would recognize anywhere: long limbs and slim body topped off by a signature mop of hair. Link was out there with a few other people, dancing with his enviable lack of self-consciousness that Rhett always found entertaining. The man moved smoothly through his unique dance maneuvers, the fluid motions of his knees and shoulders drawing the eye to the emphatic gyrations of his hips.

There was something about standing by the bar, alone in the darkness with Link unaware of his gaze, that made Rhett feel rather voyeuristic. It wasn't often he got to watch his best friend dance without a camera recording the both of them and he savored the opportunity. He followed the man's sinuous motions with his eyes for some time, feeling the rhythm pulse through his own body in response. 

Rhett suddenly felt too warm, as if the air conditioning had cut out. He tugged his turquoise v-necked t-shirt away from his chest and felt the air puff across the sweat that had sprung up there. He turned away from the dance floor and tipped another ice cube into his mouth, chewing it quickly and swallowing the shards before their edges could melt.

He saw someone waving in his direction from a half dozen yards away and squinted through the swirling lights to see Mamrie standing at a table with Grace and a number of other youtubers he didn’t immediately recognize. He wove through the crowd and made it to their side as everyone shouted greetings over the din of the music. Grace crashed into his side and squeezed him in an exuberant side-hug, grinning up at him in tipsy cheerfulness. “What’re you drinking tonight?” she yelled.

He held up his glass of ice cubes. “Ginger ale!” he shouted back.

She mock-pouted. “That’s no fun!”

“Trust me, it’s safer for everybody!”

Grace giggled. “Worried you’d do something inappropriate?” 

He realized belatedly that what he said could be taken as flirting, when in reality he had just meant no one wanted to see him make a fool of himself. Besides, drinking in public where there was the chance of being caught on camera was not something worth risking — not after all the effort they’d put into their brand’s squeaky-clean image. 

Something about the word “inappropriate” made an image spring to his mind of Link on the dance floor, the way the man closed his eyes and gave himself over to the music with his body rolls and hip thrusts. Rhett brought the glass to his lips to hide his sudden flush. “More like something stupid!” he yelled. She nodded and laughed.

The group of them made small talk for a few minutes, chatting about their convention experience and how they weren’t looking forward to getting back on planes the following day. The conversation was less entertaining than it could have been on account of them all having to yell to be heard. Rhett felt his headache growing more insistent, tension creeping down his neck and shoulders to join the throbbing in his back. 

He was listening to a young woman — a makeup guru, he guessed, judging by the flawless look of her face — complain about her extended layover in Iowa when he felt an arm encircle his waist and a warm, bony hip press into his thigh. He looked down to see Link grinning up at him with a shouted hello. The man’s hair was matted to his forehead with sweat and his pupils were dilated, giving his eyes an unusually dark glimmer. Rhett stepped aside to open up the circle of people and give Link space, at which point the man dropped his arm, but the press of the crowd kept him close to Rhett’s side. Rhett smelled the familiar scent of his best friend’s sweat.

The conversation continued for a while. Eventually Rhett pulled out his phone again and saw that it was now approaching two o’clock. He leaned down to yell into Link’s ear, informing him of the time. The other man looked up at him and made a beckoning gesture, and when Rhett obligingly inclined his head, he felt Link’s lip accidentally brush his ear. “Wanna go, then?” the man shouted.

He smelled the musky fragrance of Link’s unwashed hair as he spoke into the man’s ear again. “Yeah, if you don’t mind. My back is killin’ me.” 

Link looked up at him with sympathy as he nodded. “Okay!”

They said their goodbyes to the crowd and made their way to the door. When they emerged into the hallway, the bright light and sudden drop in ambient noise made Rhett feel dizzy. He stumbled and felt Link’s steadying hand on the small of his back. “You alright?” he asked.

Rhett straightened up as they walked toward the elevator. “Yeah, yeah. Just exhausted, man.” 

“You should’ve gone to bed hours ago.”

Rhett chuckled. “Nah, we’re a team. Even when it comes to partying.” 

“True. It would’ve been weird if you weren’t there. But I hope you’re not a wreck tomorrow.”

They got to the elevator and Link pushed the button while Rhett put his hands on his own lower back and swayed from side to side, trying to stretch the tightening muscles. “It’s not lookin’ good. That hotel bed is brutal.”

“Mine doesn’t seem that bad. You wanna try it?”

Rhett raised a brow at him. “Sleep in your bed?” 

Link shrugged. “Yeah, we could switch, if your bed is worse. Since I’m not as delicate as you.” He grinned toothily.

Rhett was surprised by a sudden whisper of disappointment. It had been years since they had shared a hotel bed. While both of them had always complained about it at the time, for a moment just now when he had thought that Link was suggesting they do it again…

He shook his head. “Nah, I’ll stick with the one I have. All my stuff’s in that room anyway. Besides, it’s only for one night.” He gave Link’s arm a playful shove. “And I’m not delicate.”

Link grinned again and poked him in the stomach. “You could’ve fooled me.” 

The elevator arrived and the doors opened with a ding, saving Link from retaliation. They got in and leaned against opposite sides of the lift, regarding each other with weary smiles as they descended to their floor. They soon arrived at the door to their suite and opened it onto a large common room with a sitting area and kitchen. On opposite sides of the room were doors that led to their individual bedrooms and bathrooms. 

They briefly discussed their schedule for the next day — their flight was mercifully in the afternoon, so they could take their time getting up in the morning — and then their conversation rambled around their experiences of the day. Despite each of them hiding yawns behind the backs of their hands, they seemed reluctant to go to bed. They stood side-by-side in the suite’s kitchenette and leaned against the countertop as they regarded each other with easy smiles. 

It appeared, in fact, that the distance between them was slowly narrowing over the course of the conversation until Link’s arm was so close Rhett could feel the warmth radiating off it. In a span of silence that stretched after their last topic ran down, the other man looked up at him with his crooked teeth crowded into a wide, mischievous mouth, the shadow on his unshaven face emphasizing the sharp angle of his jaw.

Rhett had a sudden and nearly uncontrollable urge to lean over and capture that mouth with his own. He blinked and swallowed hard, pushing himself off the counter and taking a step away. “Gosh, it’s —“ he glanced at the clock on the microwave — “almost two-thirty. We should go to bed.”

Link regarded him for a moment with a curious expression before nodding. “You’re right.”

Rhett moved toward his bedroom. “See you in the morning?”

“G’night.”

As he got to the door and turned to shut it, he noticed Link hadn’t moved from the kitchenette; he appeared to have been watching the other man’s retreat. As Rhett closed his door, he saw the other man turn and head toward the opposite bedroom. Rhett let out a long breath. Moments later, he heard the other room’s shower start up. That’s not a bad idea, he thought. Perhaps the hot water would help loosen his back.

He turned on his own shower, waited for it to warm up, then stripped and stepped inside. He stood under the water with his eyes closed and head hanging down, telling his muscles to stop complaining and relax. Eventually they began to comply and he let out a contented sigh. He filled his lungs with the steamy air in slow, meditative breathing as his mind wandered. He was unsurprised when it wandered only a few yards away to where his friend was also standing naked under the pounding water. 

Rhett had a vivid image of soap suds running down Link’s long neck, gathering in the divots of his collarbones before spilling over into the dark whorls of chest hair. Link’s tanned arms flexing as he ran his fingers through his wet hair, eyes closed and lips pursed under the stream of water. Link passing his palms flat over his torso, skimming along the smooth skin while his hips curled forward in a slow and sensual version of his movements on the dance floor. 

Rhett blinked his eyes open and stared wide at the white tiles in front of him. He tried to push the pictures from his mind, shocked by how erotic they were, and shivered despite the near-scalding water. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought of Link that way, but it always caught him off guard when he did. Usually he managed to avoid it by focusing on everything else going on in their lives. Sometimes, though, in certain lights, there was no denying the man’s preternatural allure, and all Rhett could do was try not to react openly to it. He was grateful there was no one else in the room right now and would be no one else in his bed. He dreaded the day he’d have to explain to Jessie why he sometimes looked at Link the way he did. 

He shut off the water with a sigh and got out of the shower, toweled dry and pulled on a clean pair of white cotton briefs. He switched off the lights and closed the curtains, but there was still too much light filtering through them from the street below to allow him to sleep. Fortunately, he had long since gotten into the habit of bringing a sleep mask when he traveled, and it had worked fine the previous night. He lay down, pulled the covers up, picked up the black mask from the nightstand and slipped it over his head. The lightweight elastic strap held the soft velour gently against his face. 

In the inky darkness behind his closed eyelids, he tried not to think about Link getting ready for bed in the other room. Rhett wondered if his friend still slept in his underwear, too. Perhaps he slept in the nude these days. Rhett took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He chewed the inside of his cheek. _Shut up_ , he told his brain. _Just shut up already_. 

He eventually fell into a light sleep marred by uneasy, unmemorable dreams. He tossed and turned over the entirety of the king-sized bed, first tangling himself in the covers, then kicking them entirely off. He ended up sprawled on his stomach with one knee bent, one arm under his pillow and the other outstretched across the empty space beside him. 

It was in this position that he slept for some time, and the one he was in when he found himself suddenly awake. The acoustics in the room had changed in that subtle way when a door is open that was formerly closed. A light breeze stirred the hair on the backs of his thighs. He felt a strange jolt of adrenaline and froze, his mind struggling to transition from sleep to awake while his chest shook with the pounding of his heart.

He felt a weight settle onto the bed next to his outstretched hand. He bent his arm, reaching for his face to pull the mask off, and fingers encircled his wrist and lightly stalled the motion. Rhett pulled against them and they closed tighter, keeping him still. 

“Shhhh.” It was a whispered non-word, so light as to have no timbre to it at all — no tone to indicate its owner. It could be anyone, really. But who else could it possibly be? Rhett stopped pulling and the fingers released him, letting his arm fall back onto the bed, where it remained. The mask held his eyelids closed and the darkness behind them was absolute. He waited.

A warm hand came down lightly onto Rhett’s shoulder and rested there for a moment before stroking slowly down the skin of his back, just to the side of his spine, stopping at the waistband of his underwear. It lifted and returned to his shoulder for another, similar caress. There was a soothing deliberation to it that made Rhett feel as though he were being petted like a giant cat, and he found it quite pleasant. He took a deep breath and let it out in a low purr, flexing his muscles under the hand as it moved along his body a third time. 

The hand moved to his other shoulder, stroking down the other side of his back. Rhett took another deep breath and curled himself slightly toward the depression in the mattress beside him, where the hand’s owner presumably sat, asking with another purr for more of these comforting touches. 

They continued for some time. Then fingertips began tracing spirals into the nape of his neck, reaching the edge of his hairline and drawing down underneath his ear. Rhett shivered as goosebumps sprang up where they passed; he ran his tongue nervously between his lips. Again he reached to pull off the mask and again he was stymied by firm fingers around his wrist, restraining him until he abandoned the motion.

The mattress shifted underneath him and a bit of bare skin, thin and warm over protuberant bone, nestled against his hip. There was another shift and he felt the same sensation on his other side. A slight weight settled onto his backside and Rhett realized he was being straddled. Bare calves brushed the outsides of his thighs. Two palms pressed down on either side of his spine just above his hips, pushing outward, kneading the sore muscles. 

Rhett let out a soft, contented groan as the hands traveled slowly upward, strong and unhurried, working at the knots they encountered. The tension the tall man had carried since he had folded himself into the tiny airplane seat began to melt away. He felt himself relaxing, almost dozing off under the skillful massage. 

The hands reached Rhett’s shoulders and the thumbs pressed into both sides of his neck, fingertips curling forward to brush the tops of his collarbones. They lingered there for a moment, raising new goosebumps, before beginning their journey back down. When they got to Rhett’s hips, they grasped them firmly, thumbs pressing into the dimples of his pelvic bone. Fingertips skimmed lightly under the waistband of his briefs and his heart leapt into an accelerated pace once again. 

He felt a strangely distant sense of urgency, as if there was something he should be worrying about, but his mind could barely comprehend the sensations he was feeling, let alone imagine what would happen next. The fact that he could see nothing was strangely liberating, as if what was happening were not in his control. The disorienting strangeness of the situation combined with the sheer pleasure of being touched made him feel almost removed from his own body. 

The weight on his backside shifted, pushing Rhett’s pelvis against the mattress beneath him. There was suddenly bare skin pressed into Rhett’s back and warm breath on the nape of his neck. Rhett raised himself slightly onto his elbows, shoulders lifted and head dipped, inviting more of that breath. Inviting more of anything.

Lips brushed against Rhett’s shoulder, soft and full with a sandpaper edge. They traveled slowly and deliberately along the muscular curve toward Rhett’s neck, leaving moist, warm kisses in their wake. “Oh, gosh,” Rhett whispered, shivering. His hips moved involuntarily and the weight that pressed down on them shifted in response. An unmistakable firmness slid against his tailbone.

A hand reached underneath his throat and grasped his jaw, and Rhett allowed his head to be lifted and tilted to the side. The hand held him in place as teeth pricked delicately into the junction of his neck and shoulder, the keen electricity of it making him gasp. The teeth closed more firmly over the delicate skin, sharp canines raking. Rhett shuddered, panting through open lips at the sudden white-hot sensation. The kisses and bites alternated in a languid teasing, traveling over his neck and shoulders as the body above him pinned him down. Rhett found himself making incoherent, pleading noises. 

The weight on his back abruptly lifted. The knees against his hips disappeared and the mattress at his side compressed again. Hands grasped his hips and roughly rolled him over with surprising strength. He came to rest on his back and lay still, chest heaving, newly exposed and vulnerable, aware of how obvious his arousal must now be. He reached again for the mask. He wanted to _see_. 

This time, hands encircled both his wrists and pulled them above his head. They pressed his arms into the pillow and released them. Okay, if he was not allowed to remove the mask, perhaps he would be allowed other things — to caress the body that was so warm and enticing beside him, for example. Rhett lifted his arms and reached, searchingly, only to find his wrists grasped once again. This time they were shoved harder into the pillow above his head. The message was clear: _This is where your hands belong_. 

Rhett flexed his fingers in frustrated desire, but left his hands where they had been put. He licked his lips, then opened his mouth to speak. He had barely formed the first sound – “L—“ before a finger sealed his lips, held vertically over them. Warm air brushed his neck and a lock of hair fell against his cheek, close enough to bring a very familiar scent of shampoo. “Shhhh,” Rhett heard again next to his ear. 

Rhett pressed his lips together, gathering himself, before he kissed the finger in front of his mouth. He nodded to indicate his acceptance of the terms. The finger withdrew.

Fingertips danced down Rhett’s throat and twirled through the curls of hair over his breastbone. Spread palms cupped his ribcage. Thumbs traced lightly down both sides of his navel, the muscles underneath them twitching at the ticklish sensations.

The waistband of his underwear was hooked and lifted, then slowly drawn down his hips, thighs, knees. Rhett squeezed his eyes shut behind the mask, back arching as his heart thrashed in paralyzing anticipation. His underwear all the way off now, the hands traveled back up his legs and grasped the tops of his thighs. They kneaded the taut muscles just under where they joined to his pelvic bone. 

A single fingertip traced the line of hair from the bottom of Rhett’s navel down to the coarse thicket of his pubic hair, moving with agonizing slowness as Rhett gasped, struggling to hold his twitching hips still. “Oh… gosh,” he breathed, as long fingers curved around the base of his cock. Pleasure shot through him as the hand moved firmly, deftly, stroking along its length and back with a sense of eager exploration.

Rhett laced his fingers tightly together behind his head, fighting his desperate need to reach, to caress as he was being caressed, knowing it was against the rules to do so. The touches continued, an evaluation of sorts, as if the owner of the hands were trying different approaches to see what made their subject gasp the loudest, moan the longest. Rhett writhed with his head tossed back, stars flaring behind his eyelids. He groaned, low and rough, flayed open within his own personal darkness as the ecstasy surged through him. 

He was close, so close, when the hand stroking him suddenly withdrew. He gasped in shock, trembling as his pleasure pulled abruptly back from its crest. He whined, a soft pleading in the back of his throat. He rocked his hips in a question and heard a deep chuckle in response. The raw confidence of the sound made him newly conscious of his present vulnerability.

Just as he had caught his breath and his heart had stopped beating out of his chest, the hand returned to its delicious attentions. Rhett groaned sharply, hypersensitive to the touch, quickly moving toward climax again. He reached closer this time before the hand withdrew, drawing a cry of frustration from his throat. The muscles in his thighs were twitching continuously and his arms flexed, twined fingers straining behind his head. 

This happened again and again, edging him further along but never giving him release, and it quickly became maddening. Sweat pooled under his lower back and he heard himself making breathless, whispered pleas. It was too much. He couldn’t wait any longer.

The next time the stroking stopped, Rhett brought his hands from behind his head, reaching down to take care of himself before he lost his mind entirely. The expected hands grasped his wrists and he fought against them with a wordless growl. 

A disorienting lurch of the mattress was followed by a heavy weight on Rhett’s chest, shoving the air from his lungs. Knees pressed into his sides as his upper body was straddled. With their newfound leverage, the hands bore his wrists down easily onto the bed as Rhett cried out again in frustration. He bucked his hips, searching desperately for the stimulation that would give him what he needed, but it eluded him.

A breathless whisper, low and rough. “Want to come?”

Rhett nodded quickly, licked his lips, strained against the hands that held him down.

The weight on his chest lifted somewhat, but the knees stayed in place, shoved up under Rhett’s armpits. Something velvety and firm brushed against Rhett’s parted, panting lips. Another whisper: “Me first.”

Rhett shuddered, fear and desire rolling into an utter sense of unreality. It seemed unimaginable that he was here, in this position, with this being asked of him. And yet, he wanted it. He wanted it more than he would have ever admitted to himself in the light of day. He opened his mouth and tilted his chin forward in acceptance and invitation. 

A further shift of weight was all the warning he received before the hard cock slid past his lips, filling his mouth and forcing it open wider. The sensation was unfamiliar, alien, hot and unyielding. It seemed impossibly large for his mouth to contain, and he knew with certainty it wasn’t all of it. Rhett’s mind raced in useless circles, not knowing exactly what was expected of him or how to perform it, knowing only that he was more turned on than he’d ever been in his life and the only thing more important than getting off was pleasing the person above him. 

One hand released his wrist and twined into the hair on the top of his head, holding him in place. A slow, careful thrust pushed further in, reaching near the back of his throat before retreating. Another thrust, and another. A whisper: “Good. That’s good, Rhett.” 

The fingers gripped his hair tighter as the thrusts picked up speed. Rhett tried to relax his jaw and throat, to let himself be taken this way, reveling in his helplessness. At one point he gagged, a flash of pure terror as his body convulsed without warning, but he was not released. He heard himself making soft, muffled noises in time with each movement, an involuntary mixture of pleasure and pleading. 

The rhythm paused as the thick shaft slid deep into his mouth, pressing hard against the back of his throat and holding there as Rhett came to the sudden realization that he couldn’t breathe. Without air he was no longer able to make a sound. His hands on the pillow above his head twitched. He could try to fight, to push away, but he knew that would not earn him the praise he craved. The seconds ticked by as his heart drummed hard with panic, but he kept still. He trusted. 

The cock pulled out of his mouth and he gulped air, coughing between breathless whimpers, chest heaving under the weight that sat upon it. A hand caressed his cheek. “Good. Very good, Rhett.” 

He accepted the cock back into his mouth and the thrusting began anew. Twice more the rhythm broke to perform another test of Rhett’s compliance, pressing hard and closing off his windpipe for a long moment that stretched toward oblivion. Still he trusted, even when stars burst behind his eyelids and his body screamed at him for air. He trusted and was rewarded with oxygen and praise. 

He finally began to perceive an increasing sense of urgency in the thrusts, a greater firmness filling his mouth and throat. The knees on the mattress to either side of him began to tremble, accompanied by occasional deep, rough moans. _Yes_ , Rhett thought. _Yes, yes_ , were the only words he could think. 

There was a final, throaty groan as the cock withdrew. Seconds later he felt thick, ropey spatter across his neck and chest as the body above him shuddered and gasped. Rhett himself was gripped with a shockingly strong sympathetic pleasure, writhing and panting with the intensity of it. 

After a short time, the knees that had been under his arms shifted down, crawling backwards until one lifted to nudge Rhett’s legs apart. He quickly complied and both knees settled on the mattress between his spread legs. Hot fingers traced through the slick substance on Rhett’s heaving chest before wrapping around his cock, both hands now, and their slippery touch was pure ecstasy. He abandoned himself to it, all pretense of self-control gone save for whatever willpower still kept his hands pinned above his head. He thrust his hips up with a raw, animalistic need. 

The incredible sensations after hours of teasing were a blessed relief and an unbelievable pleasure at the same time. Rhett’s climax, so long denied, began to coalesce from all sides, rolling along and wiping away any coherent thought in its wake. He held his breath for long moments between huge gulps of air, his moans growing into outright cries of helpless bliss. His back arched as every muscle clenched, pinning him in place in absolute darkness, balanced on the edge for an impossibly long moment before he finally plunged over it with a long, guttural cry. The hands kept stroking him as he came, relentlessly drawing his orgasm to its height and pulling more gasps from Rhett’s tortured throat, more quivers from his exhausted body.

Finally he was completely spent. He lay shivering and panting, making soft wordless whimpers with every breath, as the hands gently released him. The mattress shifted and there was a warm body pressed all along his side, its contact bringing a new dimension to Rhett’s euphoria. The feeling of the bare skin against him was soothing, and it helped him catch his breath and calmed the tremors in his chest.

The sleep mask was tenderly lifted from his face and he blinked into the lesser darkness of the hotel room. Above him was an angular face, its pointed jaw, full lips and large, deep-set eyes framed by a shadowy halo of tousled hair.

Link leaned down to kiss him and Rhett met his mouth with a deep, fervent hunger. Together they shuddered with the intensity of their experience, trembling hands running through each other’s hair, clasping shoulders and arms with a desperate strength as if to reassure themselves of the other’s reality.

Finally, after such reassurances were asked and given many times over, Link stretched his arm out and Rhett rolled into the crook of it, resting his head on the man’s chest and putting his arm around his waist. Link petted Rhett’s sweat-dampened hair and ran fingers down his spine in a soothing, languid motion. It wasn’t long before Rhett drifted into a profoundly satisfied slumber, lulled by the heartbeat beneath his cheek, his best friend’s scent filling his lungs with every inhalation.

***

Rhett awoke to the bright mid-morning sun. He was sprawled naked on his stomach across an otherwise empty bed. He slowly took stock of where he was, working through the brief disorientation that always came from sleeping in a hotel. He felt more comfortable than he could remember being in a long time. His back didn’t hurt. He was actually well rested. It seemed like a miracle. 

He shifted his legs and gasped as a burning soreness shot through his calves, bringing with it a flood of memories. He stared at the patch of sunlight on the rumpled white cotton sheets in front of his face as remembered sensations swept through him. Hands on his body in the darkness. A long night of lust, helplessness, fear, trust, culminating in a complete abandonment of himself. And finally, after everything had passed over and through him, all that had remained was Link. 

But the mattress by his side was cold. The door to the bedroom was closed. Rhett combed through his jumbled memories, a process made more difficult by the fact that nearly all of them lacked visual components. He remembered falling asleep in Link’s arms, their bodies glistening with sweat and sex, overtaken by exhaustion and emotionally wrung dry. He did not remember the other man departing later in the night, which was surprising given how easily Rhett was normally stirred from sleep. And yet, at some point, it must have happened.

He gingerly got to his feet and limped to the bathroom on tight calves. He turned on the shower and stared at his naked self in the mirror while the water heated. His hair was every which way and his lips were full and reddened. He looked, to his eye, like someone who had been thoroughly fucked. 

The hot shower loosened the muscles and cleared the last remnants of sleep from his brain. By the time he got out, got dressed, and styled his hair, he felt ready to face whatever lay beyond his bedroom door. 

He opened the door to see Link sitting on the couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees to type on the laptop that rested on the coffee table. His hair hung in damp curls. He looked up and greeted Rhett with a bright smile. “I made coffee.”

Rhett walked over to the counter where the coffee pot burbled. “Ooh, hotel room coffee. You shouldn’t have.” 

Link snorted. “I made it for me, man. You just get half of everything of mine as usual.”

Rhett muttered under his breath. “I got a lot more than half of you last night.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing!” Rhett called cheerfully over his shoulder. He poured the remainder of the coffee into a mug and carried it over to the sitting area. He sat down carefully on the armchair across from the couch, favoring the lingering ache in his legs. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started scrolling through his email, but his eyes darted frequently to Link as the other man focused intently on his screen. 

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, curiosity burned too hot and Rhett cleared his throat. “Ah. Sleep well?” 

Link passed a finger over his touchpad, clicked a button, began typing. “Well enough I guess. Probably better than you.” There was the slightest trace of a smirk on his lips, but it was impossible to tell if this was usual Link teasing or something more. 

“I actually slept remarkably well.”

“That’s good.” Link continued typing. 

Rhett sipped the bitter brown liquid. He tried to focus again on his phone. He couldn’t possibly have dreamed all of that, could he? It was all too raw, too vivid. The soreness in his legs and jaw were beyond anything he could imagine caused by even the wildest fantasy. He had certainly never dreamed anything like it before. He’d even refused the temptation to direct his subconscious toward that vein during his lucid dreaming episodes, feeling as though that would cross a line in his own mind if nowhere else.

There was no way it hadn’t happened. Or if it hadn’t, Rhett seriously needed to get his head examined. And yet, he sensed no tension emanating from Link, no sign that the other man was drowning in the same mental images seen from the other side. He was the same old Link.

Rhett finished his coffee and sat quietly stroking his beard. He considered asking outright as the only way to clear the air, but if he were wrong… the amount of awkwardness would be untenable. He was about to open his mouth to say something, anything to seek out more clues, when Link closed his laptop and bounced to his feet. “I’m gonna go pack. We should leave soon.” 

Rhett looked up at him, searching the guileless blue eyes and finding nothing out of the ordinary. He also got to his feet, more slowly than the other man had. “Yeah, good idea.” 

They retreated to their respective rooms and Rhett packed his suitcase. While there, he had a stern conversation with himself in which he explained that he was probably losing his mind, it was most likely just a crazy dream, and he really needed to do something about this repressed attraction to Link before something _actually_ happened. Their friendship, their families, and their livelihood were all too precious to warrant pursuing this bizarre fixation. By the time Rhett was done packing and rolled his suitcase out into the main room, he had decided to drop the matter altogether.

Link met him with his own suitcase and together they moved toward the door. Rhett opened it and passed through, at which point Link paused. “Hold on a second, I wanna do one more pass. You know, my system.”

Link’s system for not forgetting anything bordered on the obsessive sometimes, but if it made him feel better, who was Rhett to argue? And since the system had been implemented, Rhett had never lost anything while traveling with the man. Rhett shrugged. “I’ll wait in the hall.” 

He took both suitcases with him and leaned against the wall that was opposite the door. Link would be going through each room, looking under beds and couches, checking the fridge and cabinets, making sure they hadn’t left any chargers plugged into any of the outlets. 

Link emerged a minute later dangling a small black swatch of fabric from his hand, which he tossed in the taller man’s direction. Rhett caught it, bemused. It was his sleep mask. 

“It was under your bed,” Link explained as he shut the door behind himself and made sure the lock clicked. He grasped the handle of his suitcase and turned to walk toward the elevators before pausing to look back over his shoulder. “It’d be a shame if you lost that. You might get woken up in the middle of the night.” 

Link bared his teeth in a lopsided grin as he gave Rhett a deliberate wink. He didn’t wait for the other man’s response before turning and walking down the hall. 

Rhett stared after him in slack-jawed astonishment. It took a long moment before he could convince his legs to move again, and then he hurried after his friend. He stuffed the mask into the inner pocket of his carry-on bag and secured it carefully. 

It seemed likely he’d want it again.


End file.
